a dry pile of dirt
on a wet and muddy road
seems so tasty...
in this night of many leaves,
one house with no fence
the road is clear
Queen of black fur
laying on a table,
Gentle spots of sun
leaping from one blue spot to another -
a humming bird quickly pecks
grasping last moments of night
before the winter sun -
will force us into its morning
walking on this road,
reflections of last summer...
under this warm sky
one last poem before I go to bed,
the night chill has entered..
Breathing
in
out,
The night is slowly coming
Heading to the door
My road's about to end,
I wish this sky to rain on me
One last time...
Walking paste is getting faster
Water is falling everywhere
as the big door opens
the dark night unfurled before,
endless possibilities with each new step | 